280 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST, 
[July, 
Ttie Day We Celebrate. 
If there is any day in the year upon which the average 
Young American does not have to be instructed as to the 
time of its coming, that day is Fourth of July. The very 
air we breathe from the day we are born fills us with the 
spirit of the Independence Day. The coining “ Fourth” 
reminds me of one in which I took an active part some 
years ago, and one, though without any striking events, 
that my memory has not allowed me to entirely forget. 
We knew it was coming, and when I saywie, three young 
that we all concluded to buy of Postmaster M.; first, be¬ 
cause he had been a soldier and had lost one leg, and 
secondly, his stock of goods appeared to be the best. 
Our pyrotechnics (a pretty big word for fire-works), as 
fast as purchased, were by common consent stored in the 
loft in the barn. It may be that we had an idea that 
nobody knew anything about what was going on, and we 
wished to “ keep things hid.” This storing of fire-works 
in the hay in the barn is just the wrong thing to do, and 
if any young reader is led to do the same thing through 
my experience, I shall wish I had forever kept still on 
small cannon and other fire arms. Wc had an audience 
at the window so soon ns the exercises began. The firing 
was kept up until we concluded that the day had been 
well opened, and after taking a late and large breakfast 
we concluded to let matters rest until the heat of the 
day was over, and under the cover of darkness resume 
the exercises, as a better showing might then be made. 
Night came after wo had had a day at fishing in the 
brook by the woods, where we had more bites from mos¬ 
quitoes than anything else. The third scene gives an 
idea of how we finished up the day, and by the looks it 
farmer lads—no more and no less—are included. The al¬ 
manac had been looked at more than once to see how lime 
was progressing, and we fully agreed with it when it said 
all along through May and most of June that the days 
were getting longer. They seemed longer and longer 
even up to the very day of the celebration—and that 
opened early and closed late. What fun it is to get ready 
for any unusual “doings”; and when you add to it the 
happy thought that not a soul knows anything about it 
except the few companions of your choice, how full of 
real; 6olid, silent delight the little youthful heart must be. 
For this particular occasion wc had come home early from 
school, and done extra work for weeks for the money we 
should get, or, to look beyond the cash, the sport that 
our toil would bring; all of us were glad to get an errand 
from any one who was “good pay”; and they all, as I 
look back now, understood the motives which led us to 
such an outward show of industry. 
It was not later than the middle of June that we formed 
ourselves into an investigating committee on fire-works, 
and visited the neighboring village in a body. IIow we 
did look at those store windows where fire-crackers of all 
sizes and colors were displayed to catch the eye, and 
finally the pennies, of just such investigating committees 
as mentioned above. We bought our things at one time 
or another as the funds came in; but we were so patriotic 
this point. Whatever yon do, remember, as I did not, 
that barns are costly, hay is easy to set on fire, and fire¬ 
works are still easier to burn, and then the temptation 
is so great that some thoughtless boy may touch a match 
to that which will make a funny noise when it goes off. 
The artist has helped me to show my nieces and 
nephews, how things looked the day before the Fourth 
when the Cdebrators were gathered for the last time to 
look at the purchases, see that they were all there and in 
good shape, and also to make plans for the morrow which 
had been so slow in coming. This was the joy of antici¬ 
pation, but with it was mingled that stillness that the 
time and place demanded. Of course we went to bed in 
much that fevered state of mind and body that thousands 
of boys all over the land will do this year ; and passed as 
long and sleepless a night as boys always do on July 3d. 
The morning of the “4th” was a fine one,'and the sun 
rose without a cloud—the first sunrise we had seen for 
some time. The second scene lets the young readers into 
the activities of the early morning, but of course it can 
not show the noise that was being made, or express the 
utter surprise of the dog to see us out so early in such a 
peculiar and excited state. It was not our intention to 
make a quiet day of it, and we started out accordingly. 
We broke the silence of the morning, and our secret 
planning for weeks was exposed, with loud reports of 
might be supposed that the Celebrators were pretty welt 
used up too. The hand that fired the overloaded cannon 
had been lamed, and was withdrawn from active service. 
The eye that had too closely watched the spattering and 
treacherous fuse had been dimmed, and was cut off from 
the outside world by a bandage, wet in cold water. But so 
sure as there is a “ Fourth ” there is a fifth to follow, and 
in our case it came altogether too soon. The fourth scene 
shows to some extent how we felt at that moment when 
a near relative called at our room to see what had become 
of the young hands that were accustomed to help him trr 
the field during the morning hour before school. We 
looked tired, and we felt worse. The boy with the sore 
head, and the one with the lame arm, were the last to 
rise and the slowest to acknowledge that, after all. the 
Fourth of July was the hardest day that they had seen for 
just a year. As I look back to that morning, tired, sleepy, 
stiff and sore, I have to wonder at the seeming absurd 
way we, as American lads, show our love of country. 
Why is it that the young mind can not associate a more 
quiet time with “ the day that our land was made free : ' 
Whatever may be the truth of the case, the boys and 
girls will continue to celebrate the Fourth, and the 
dull, aching, Fifth will follow to remind them, as it did 
me, that the freedom the day ai/owed, leads into bond¬ 
age, because I was bound with a towel. Uncle Hal.. 
